Mocca
by Skovko
Summary: Drew normally has no problem flirting with the opposite sex, but this woman inside the coffee bar makes him constantly fuck up his words and want to bite off his own tongue.


Drew sat down at a table, watching the woman walk towards him. If it wasn't enough that she worked in a coffee bar, everything about her appearance screamed coffee. Her hair was cappuccino brown, and her eyes were coffee brown.

"What can I get you?" She asked.  
"Coffee," he answered.

He could have bit his tongue. Of course he wanted coffee. He was in a damn coffee bar, for crying out loud.

"What a surprise," she grinned. "And how do you take your coffee?"  
"Like I take my women," he grinned back. "Hot and dark."

Another bite to his tongue was necessary. That was probably the most stupid joke he could have said, especially since she was white and he really wanted to flirt with her.

"Noami!" She called. "I got a customer for you!"  
"Coming!" A voice called back.

He looked towards the counter to see a dark skinned woman behind it. She was very beautiful, but she wasn't what he wanted. It had been a joke. A very stupid joke.

"I like cream in my coffee," he tried.

Could he mess up any more? It was official. Drew McIntyre, normally a stud with no trouble with the ladies, had lost his ability to function around this woman. Something about her just made him lose touch with his own mind.

"You want coffee with cream?" She asked.  
"Yes," he answered defeated.  
"Coming right up," she said.

He didn't even drink coffee with cream normally. He would normally go for a caramel latte, but he couldn't go back now. He probably could, but that would make him look even more stupid. Instead he accepted defeat and watched her walk back to the counter, make his coffee, and serve it to him.

"Thanks," he said. "And sorry for before. I'm a fuck up."  
"You're not the first," she gave him a smile. "Enjoy your coffee."

He drank his coffee in silence. It wasn't bad, but it was no caramel latte. He had really messed up, and he had to swallow his pride and his coffee. Finally through his coffee, he looked up as someone sat down across from him. The cute barista sat there.

"I'm off work," she said. "So, mister fuck up, do you wanna do something?"  
"Like what?" He asked.  
"I don't know. Have some fun, I suppose," she shrugged. "Do you have a name, or do you prefer mister fuck up?"  
"Drew," he smiled. "And yours?"  
"Mocca," she said. "I know, my parents were a bit too creative sometimes. I've heard it all before. All the stupid attempts of picking me up. My hair and my eyes look like coffee. Can they drink my essence? It's not cute or even creative when you hear it from every other man."  
"I wasn't gonna ask that. I was gonna ask if I could taste you," he said.

Screw biting his tongue. He might as well get a saw and just saw the fucking thing off. She shook her head and rolled her eyes. He wouldn't be surprised if she withdrew her proposal of doing something.

"Hi, I'm mister fuck up," he said.  
"Yes, you are," she laughed. "So are we going?"  
"You still wanna hang out with me after that?" He asked.  
"What can I say? I like my men like I like my whiskey," she smirked. "Scottish."  
"Yeah, I heard that one before too," he chuckled.  
"Annoying, right?" She asked.  
"Annoying as fuck," he answered. "So where are we going?"

She took him to the harbor where they bought ice cream in a small shop, and then watched the ships. It was a nice, sunny day, and she only made it more bright. After an hour on the harbor, they took a walk through town, looking through windows together. A few hours later they were in his house. He wasn't sure why she agreed to going home with him, but he didn't complain. Three hours with her, and he already know she would steal his heart in the long run.

"Should I put on some coffee?" He asked.  
"I actually don't drink coffee," she said.

He looked at her shocked.

"I know. A Mocca working as a barista, looking like walking coffee, and she doesn't actually drink it," she laughed. "I failed my parents big time."  
"And they had such big dreams for you," he joked. "So what can I get you? Tea? Water?"  
"I don't want something to drink," she said.  
"So what do you want?" He asked.

She closed the gap between them, pulled him down by his tee, and gently kissed him. His arms snaked around her back as he kissed her back. She broke the kiss and looked at him.

"I do believe you said you wanted to taste me," she said.

He let out a low growl and attacked her in a more heated kiss. He grabbed her upper arms and backed her up against the nearest wall. His fingers fumbled with the zipper in her side, not able to get it working.

"How the hell does this thing work?" He growled.  
"Just rip it off me!" She ordered.

He ripped her dress to pieces, and then got her bra open. At least he could figure out the clasps on that. He sank to his knees while scraping his teeth down her stomach. He pulled her thong down and took in her scent for a second before attacking her with his tongue.

She moaned and panted, burying her fingers in his hair, tugging on it every now and then. He worked her with his tongue and fingers for minutes until she cried out in heavenly tones. He smirked as he stood up and pulled his tee off. He kissed her again, pulling her away from the wall, moving them both into his bedroom.

He pushed her down on the bed, watching as she moved herself backwards until she reached the pillows. He quickly got out of the rest of his clothes, not wanting to wait another second. He grabbed her ankles and pulled her down the bed again. She shrieked and laughed, letting him do whatever he wanted. He placed her legs over his shoulders, and thrust into her with one fast push.

"Fuck!" She hissed. "You're big. Don't think I've ever had anything this big inside me before."

He smirked proudly. He was gonna make sure she would remember this day for the rest of her life. And if she would let him, it would be far from the only time he fucked her. He pulled halfway out, snapping his hips forward again, setting a fast pace while watching her squirm around on the bed in pleasure.

She felt, sounded and looked good. Better than anyone he had ever been with. He sped up, moving as fast as he possibly could, sending her into a whirlwind of an orgasm that had her crying out loudly. He caught his name in between those screams. He grunted her name back as he came too. He lowered her legs and collapsed down next to her on the bed. He pulled her close and held her tight. They laid like that for a minute or two until she sighed and looked at him.

"I got a problem," she said.  
"What's that?" He asked.  
"My phone's in the other room, and I need to call Naomi," she answered.  
"Why?" He asked.  
"To make her come here with some clothes. You ripped mine, remember?" She chuckled.  
"That can wait till tomorrow," he tightened his arms around her. "You're gonna stay naked the rest of the day anyway."  
"Is that your way of asking me to stay?" She asked.  
"Will you?" He looked at her with puppy eyes.

She rolled over on her side, buried her fingers in his hair and kissed him. She didn't need to give him an answer. The kiss said it all. She wasn't planning on leaving his bed any time soon.

"In case this thing actually ends up going somewhere, I got a confession to make," he said.  
"What is it?" She asked.  
"I drink caramel latte," he answered.


End file.
